


The Towers

by dianamolloy



Category: High-Rise (2015), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blood and Violence, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingerfucking, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Masturbation, Misogyny, Murder, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexist Language, Smut, Violence, dd/lg, fat female character, no body shaming, plus size, plus size character, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-25 02:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12520732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianamolloy/pseuds/dianamolloy
Summary: Is chaos always inevitable for people thrown within the primal high rise way of life.





	1. Welcome to the High Rise

Sarah pulled along a wheeled suitcase, not much to show for twenty-four years as she pushed the impressive glass doors of the foyer open to her sister's apartment building. Tina's husband, a GP, had been offered a job in Leeds that he was unable to turn down due to NHS cuts with the heyday of the Doctor being in the past. Having just bought an apartment with strict resale conditions, Sarah had been offered the building at an affordable rate until they could sell it.

The angled, brutalist design appealed to her from the two towers which were far enough away from each other to be individual dwellings but identical and uniform. Two formidable male presences standing proudly in charge, leaving Sarah to feel submissive with her femininity in a way she couldn’t explain. 

“They’re just buildings,” she laughed to herself, certain it was the trained architect in her going giddy at being able to see up close buildings she had watched come together. Sarah’s own work was more modest, the practice she worked at did not take on prestigious projects of this nature. 

Everything around her echoed the masculinity of the outside, straight angles and edges, very few curved lines within the exposed concrete that was seen all around. Teak wood panelling used conservatively within the main entrance and the stainless steel gleamed with no unsightly fingerprints or smudges. The stone flooring shone and Sarah could smell the lingering remains of the chemical used to polish it. 

The received pronunciation female voice from the lift indicated she was on floor twenty-five, stepping out she walked with the click clack of heels toward the side indicated by the signage as housing flats 01-05. 

[2503]

Glossy, black and rectangular with white lettering the door numberplate almost reflected her face and Sarah stopped outside of her new, temporary, home. Inside the main area, unfurnished and likely to stay that way as much as possible to make it more appealing to approved buyers, a concrete column took up part of the room. The building imposing its presence even within the homes, unnecessarily so, Sarah observed. It had no structural reason to exist, to take up precious space and yet there it stood, an uninvited guest. Or was she that to the building, had it already created the tenants it wished to house and were the humans among the floors the true interlopers.

A crash and a yell brought her out of her reverie and Sarah ran out into the balcony, straining to see over the raised partitions designed for privacy. She spotted a man, he was looking and talking upward, one whom she could only see from the waist up even twisting as she had done and in high shoes. Bare chested, smooth and pale, dark blonde with a body and face covered in angles and ridges that would contrast beautifully with Sarah’s convex and buxom shape. Obese, Tina would whisper poisonously to her as a teenager, the girls sharing the long golden hair and dark blue eyes but Tina resembled their lithe mother and Sarah their portly, absentee father. Eating until fat, Tina would explain to her, when she had been too young to know the word. The sisters were not close now, Sarah only moving in because she longed to experience life in a building out of its time not due to any familial loyalty. Brutalism has fallen out of fashion forty years prior and to have two brand new and magnificent specimens spring up, Sarah had jumped at the chance to stay, even if it would be brief. Away from Tina and at university she had found the voice that had always quietly told her to dismiss the cruel words, nurtured it into something louder and the truth that she was as valid and as desirable as her sister had soon turned into a roar. She knew her worth and attractiveness now and Tina dared not say anything to her, not for years, Sarah no longer the shy little girl who wouldn’t talk back.

”Hello?” A polished voice broke into Sarah’s thoughts, distracted by them whilst she had waited for him to finish speaking to whomever was above them and her eyes met her handsome neighbour’s. Blue like hers but his were azure, a clear, bright, warm day in contrast to her zaffre, storm-cloud irises. 

“I heard a loud noise,” Sarah replied, feeling on the back foot at the amused stranger gazing at her as if he’d known she was imagining him pressing against her welcoming body from the moment her eyes fell upon his perfect one.

”A slight accident from upstairs,” he explained.

”If everything is okay I’ll leave you to it. Sorry,” she turned then popped back. “I’m Sarah, I’ve just moved in.”

”Robert,” he introduced himself, “ditto”.

She really did turn away that time and went indoors. The muggy heat of summer in London was as usual unbearable and Sarah stripped off and stepped into the cool shower. Dressed in a blue satin robe for the rest of the afternoon, she was waiting for a delivery of pizza once it was dark when a knock on the door startled her, she hadn’t let anyone in so how were they at her front door. Through the peephole she could see Robert and taking a step back, Sarah opened the front door.

”Hello again?” this time she was the confused party.

”I wanted to check if you were going to the party upstairs?” Robert enquired, eyes on Sarah’s face but attention on the droplet of water snaking its way from the damp hair arund her neck, down her clavicle and to the hidden place between her breasts.

”I haven’t been invited.”

”Ah. Perhaps it would be alright if you attended? Charlotte, our neighbour upstairs, seemed to indicate it was a welcoming get together,” Robert suggested, unsure himself if that were strictly true. 

Sarah smiled, “that’s ok. I have food coming, and cold pizza is only nice if you also got to eat it hot the night before,” she looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say goodbye.

”I’ve not had good pizza in some time,” Robert’s eyes met hers in a question. 

“It is a local place, it would probably be good to know if you like them,” Sarah stepped sideways and the smartly dressed Dr. Laing, wearing a grey suit with a dark tie and crisp, white shirt walked inside and closed the door.

The pizza arrived not long after and whilst Sarah paid, Robert popped next door for bottle of riesling he had in his fridge. Sarah had been uncertain what Robert’s reaction to the lack of furniture would be but he had taken it in his stride, removing his jacket and draping it on the kitchen counter before sitting on the floor beside her, both of them with their backs to the true and petrified stone resident of the apartment.

As well as the wine and glasses, Robert had brought a blanket which he spread open and they enjoyed a strange but pleasant indoor picnic of sorts, Sarah still naked under the flimsy robe and Laing fully suited. Sarah learned Robert was a doctor, teaching at Kings College London as head of physiology. He was more guarded about personal details and Sarah found she did most of the talking.

”I'm sorry there’s no chairs, thank you for bringing the blanket. I’d feel guilty if your suit got dirty,” Sarah sipped her wine, they had moved to face each other whilst eating, the sweet and cold grapes contrasting well with the herby, lightly spiced sausage on the pizza.

”I didn’t bring it because of that,” Robert was telling the truth but he was also glad that a coincidence of his reason why benefitted his well tailored two-piece.

”Oh?” Sarah looked quizzically at the smirking Dr. Laing.

”It was so you didn’t get cold laying directly on the floor when I fuck you after dinner,” he finished and Sarah blinked widely in surprise as her chest and cheeks warmed, from the wine and the promise in his words.

They ate in silence from then on, Sarah not knowing how to return to a friendly level of conversation whilst her mind replayed his words. Robert didn’t speak so he could observe her instead, clinical attention to detail watching Sarah shift around and try to keep eye contact but failing.

Food consumed, Sarah stood and took the pizza box and placed it on the counter and put the empty wine bottle inside the inbuilt bin unit in the kitchen. Padding back, her heart hammered against her chest.

”Stop,” Laing’s voice was clear and she paused, in front of him but side ways. “Face me,” he commanded and she obeyed. 

He pulled at the ties hiding her from him and they undid easily, his present unwrapped in front of his very eyes as the thin cloth slipped down and rested around her feet. Face level with Sarah’s groin, Robert leaned forward, still seated, and inhaled the girl’s musk, her squirming confirming something to his ears. Explorative fingers parted the girl’s pussy, her legs opening and acquiescing to his touch and he chuckled at how ready she was.

Sarah moaned when Laing brushed a knuckle against her bud, the hard little nub vibrating in pleasure and she tilted her hips forward wantonly. The rhythm of his touch grew more frenzied the more the girl verbalised her pleasure and the way his other fingers pressed just against her entrance made Sarah come, a string of expletives flying from her lips. Laing pulled her down, so her knees were open and facing him, some of her mound obscured by her stomach in this position   

 “Lie back for me,” Sarah, flushed from orgasm, did and Robert leaned over her, still fully dressed and captured her eyes in his, predator observing helpless prey with a level of disinterest only someone with his job could have. He raised his hand, the one which had rubbed against her pink cunt, and brought it to her mouth to lick, once she had, some of her slick now on her chin, he kissed her and tasted the light saltiness mixing with the sweet wine. “What do you want?”

”I want you to fuck me. Daddy,” Sarah spoke the secret word aloud, confident enough to do so but still scared at rejection. She found none, Laing quickly unbuttoned and pulled the zip of his trousers down and pushed against Sarah’s moist opening.

”Like this, you dirty little whore?” he breathed hard on her cheek, giving her a brutal and unrelenting pace.

Sarah struggled to form words, his size filling her completely, almost painfully, and the ferocity of his speed made it difficult to speak but with eyes squeezed shut she managed, “yes daddy, just like that.”

”Good girl,” he praised her for managing to speak, hips slamming noisily against Sarah and a tight feeling began at the base of his cock, growing and building, the heaviness in his balls overtaking him until he released inside of her greedy cunt with hot ropes of come, not slowing for a second.

Unsheathing himself Robert climbed off Sarah and replaced his dick with the hand from before, pulling his seed from her entrance to rub against her clit, and bringing her knees upwards, Sarah cried out noisily, a sweaty, panting mess as not so much waves but the feeling of smashing against rocks took her. Her neglected breasts were decorated with stiff little nipples and lying down next to Sarah, Robert lazily played with one as she twitched under his ministrations, skin highly sensitive. Robert left in the middle of the night, waking Sarah to tell her he had to rest before work. She sleepily nodded and went back to sleep, wrapped now in the blanket instead of Laing’s arms. 

The wine left her tired and groggy and Sarah was grateful for the week she had taken from work to move in and get settled. Sleeping on the floor, not even the sleeping bag she’d brought until a camping bed could be purchased, didn’t improve things. The previous night hadn’t exactly gone as she initially planned and Sarah deeply hoped it wasn’t a one off. At least if it was, she consoled herself, she wouldn’t be living next door for too long. Robert, irresponsibly for anyone but especially for a doctor, hadn’t asked but she was on birth control. Even if she knew that only protected against pregnancy. They were foolish but she was too blissful between her legs to give much care. A shower helped clear the cobwebs and eating the cold pizza slices settled her rumbling stomach.

It was only then that she noticed a heavy, cream envelope on the floor by the door. Bending to look at it and pick it up, she found it was an invitation, from the architect, a name she was extremely familiar with, Anthony Royal inviting her to meet with him. Glancing at the time, Sarah dressed quickly, brushed her hair and applied a small amount of makeup. The main lift only went to the 39th floor and once there she had to take the stairs. Lightly flushed from the walk, Sarah gave herself a moment so as to not look bedraggled and knocked, a burly man with dark hair opened the door. He led her outside and she gaped at the sight of a complete garden, taking up the entire roof space. She could have sworn there had been a faint sound of hoofbeats but that really seemed ludicrous. The garden, with its manicured trees and pretty flowers and pots was much more romantic and nostalgic in style, very at odds with the modernist feel of the tower itself.

Pointed toward a large barn, if one could describe something so large and ostentatious simply a barn, by the bodyguard type person - Sarah wasn’t quite sure what he was - she stepped through the ajar door to see a man she recognised from newspaper articles and television appearances. And the other who she had shared her bed, of sorts, with the previous night.

“Ms Knight, you’re late,” Royal’s baritone voice called out. “Remiss in our profession, no?” Phrased as a question but not actually one, Sarah apologised. “I was explaining to Dr. Laing the purpose of this space and how unfortunate it will be that he cannot stay. And nor can you.” 

Both Sarah and Robert were taken aback by what they’d just learned but Laing spoke first, “what do you mean I cannot stay? I’ve purchased a home here,” his tone laced with annoyance.

”Of course, I understand and it’s an awful shame you must go, I did rather want you here. Ms Knight on the other hand, you were never approved for living in the High Rise, we had specific requirements for 2503. It is lucky that your encounter with Laing here came ahead of this, or you would simply have had to vacate,” Royal explained.

”You told him?” Sarah crossly asked Robert, cheeks pink with anger, nauseated and furious at being the subject of lascivious gossip.

”No, of course not,” Robert told her and turned to the Architect. “How do you know, well, anything?”

”I really did want your presence here,” Royal didn’t answer the question but repeated his lament. “Your belongings await you, you should be on your way,” as if given a secret signal a man Royal referred to as Simmons, the bearded bodyguard who had pointed Sarah toward the barn and unbeknownst to her brought Robert from the pool, where Charlotte had convinced him to visit after chastising Laing for not showing at her party and he had obliged with his surgical lesson not until later that morning, entered and herded them out.

”This is preposterous,” Laing argued as they were led to the lift he had been brought in. The stony faced Simmoms didn’t reply, he simply took them to the ground floor and roughly grabbed Sarah’s forearm when she announced she was refusing to leave. She cooperated in silence, arm stinging from the vice-like grip. They didn’t go far, stopping at the entrance of the other tower, this one upon closer inspection looking worse for wear. Neither Laing nor Sarah wanted to set foot inside, there seemed to be a small fire at the bottom of the visible staircase and the floor was filthy. They weren’t given a choice when the stronger bodyguard manhandled them both inside, then locked the door he had unlocked to let them in in the first place.

“Your stuff is in your flat, same as before,” he called through the glass and walked away, not acknowledging Sarah banging on the glass with the palm of her hand.

Sarah looked around, frightened tears misting her eyes. If the first tower had been a benevolent god, this one was a cruel and merciless one. The wreckage now they were inside was even more evident.

”We have to get out,” Sarah told Robert, who looked as pale and shocked as she felt. “They’ve gone, I don’t know they’ve gone mad!?”

“Robert?” a jovial voice interrupted Sarah, Nathan Steele stepping around the fire at the bottom of the stairs. He saw his old friend, looking much cleaner and less inkeeping with how the building like them to be dressed with a strange woman. “Who’s that with you? You can’t fraternise with the upper echelons, you know better,” he sounded borderline hysterical and Robert deftly stepped between the man and Sarah.

”Do we know each other?” Robert spoke calmly, not wanting to anger this man dressed like a homeless person with plastic bags tied over his feet, and a dark brown splatter that looked suspiciously like blood on his grimy shirt collar.

”Ahhh you almost got me,” Steele laughed uproariously, large teeth on display and a touch of mania mixed in with mirth. “Alright, I’ll let you take her upstairs but you’ll have to share later,” with a jolly wave the man ran off. 

“He knew you,” Sarah accused.

”I didn’t know him!” Robert insisted and walked to the elevator, taking Sarah’s hand in his. He tried the button and it opened, the lights inside flickered, and the smell of human feaces invaded their nose.

”Where are you going?” am alarmed Sarah asked.

”You heard Simmons, our things are in the same apartments, I don’t want to encounter anyone else until we know how to get out of here. My phone was taken by Simmons before I got to meet with Royal. Where’s yours?”

”Inside my flat, I didn’t think I needed it so I left it in the kitchen.”

The unpleasant ride was soon over and on floor twenty-five they stepped out, walking on high alert quietly until they reached their respective doors. With an ear to both, they heard no noise inside either and Sarah tried her key but the door wouldn’t open. Robert did the same, his attempt more successful and among plenty of debris stood his boxes and the scant pieces of furniture he so far owned, such as his mattress. In the corner Sarah’s one suitcase was visible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no I have no shame about hammering the fat love point home and especially after the grimness of my body yet again being nothing more than a bullshit inconvenience to a fatphobe. Btw there will not be any further negative weight mentions again in this story, but I realised that with the other 3 female characters nobody has ever remarked in any way about their bodies (intentional as I’ve said before) and yesterday (every day) reminded me it’s not accurate. 
> 
> And there will never be descriptions of rape or fade to black rape for the *main characters*. There might be mentions of not descriptive rape owing to the source material (film not book) that I might not be able to get around but I will always warn in advance.


	2. The Violence Begins

A piercing shriek broke the smothering silence, female and frightened and Sarah ran to the door but Robert was faster, placing his large palm against the wood to stop her being able to pull it open.

"What are you doing, move," she irritably turned to him, face twisted in perplexed disgust.

"You witnessed the same scenes I did getting up here, this place is chaos. Be smart," Robert cautioned.

”How about being decent?!” Sarah countered to a blank faced Laing. “If i were out there I would want someone to come to me, wouldn’t you?”

Not extracting himself from her way, Robert studied Sarah. The last hours had been a confusing mess and one he wished to extradite himself from, his new home a gruesome farce. The clean copy he had left replaced by this grim replacement, dirty and unwelcoming.

”You will wait here,” Robert held a hand up to silence the protestations flying his way. “I’ll investigate. There is little sense in both of us going if you’re going to react emotionally.”

Sarah wanted to argue but it seemed her choices were either he went alone or neither of them did and her frustrations didn’t outweigh whatever that poor soul she’d heard was facing. Sarah wondered if the instigator and culprit of the audible distress was the same man they had met downstairs, they’d yet to see anyone else. Robert had seemed sincere in his protest but the stranger had known his name, his face. Was this too part of whatever Royal was planning, having dumped them in this hellscape.

Carefully Robert walked down the corridor, straining to catch any signs of life in one of the other apartments. If they contained residents inside, it was impossible to tell. The lights flickered and his eyes darted backwards toward his own door, anxious to return if not to order to a sense of the familiar. It was by the the stairway, half in half out, where the likely owner of the sounds was located. There would be no further screaming, her eyes bulged and bruises had formed around the throat, the elderly woman was choked to death. Robert forced himself to take in every detail despite the obscenity of the tableaux; her legs were open and the dirty dress, originally a shade of blue but now quite stained, had been pulled open with tiny pearlescent buttons littering the area around her. With a grim expression he walked quickly away, startled when a heavy clang of the fire door slammed and when he turned the body was gone. Robert trotted to his own door, calling for Sarah to unlock it.

”What did you find?” Sarah anxiously looked him over, as if his appearance would give her a clue. She had heard no voices but he had left her for several minutes.

”Nothing,” Laing lied. They needed to be logical and if he described the scene followed by the removal of the body by an unknown presence, Sarah might panic which would be dangerous for the both of them.

”We need to keep looking.”

”There is nothing on this floor,” that much was now true, “and we don’t know what we’re facing. We can’t run around all forty floors.”

Sarah was unhappy about it but she had to agree that it would be stupid to go with no destination instead of trying to find a way out. Once we’re out of here we can call the police, not searching doesn’t mean we don’t care but we need to be clever she told herself.

”Robert, let me in,” a woman called from outside, knocking as she spoke.

“That sounds like Charlotte,” he said quietly. 

“Who?”

”Last night’s get together, the one I did not attend, she hosted it,” he clarified and looking through the peephole to make sure she was alone, let her in.

”Have you seen Toby?” This new brunette sauntered inside, the sparkly evening dress and silver platforms she had on unsuited for the early afternoon. 

“Seen who?” Robert was puzzled, who was Toby.

”My son, have you forgotten his name already,” Charlotte laughed and leaned against the wall, a move purely designed to make her look desirable. 

“I’m sorry Charlotte, I haven’t met your son?” Robert apologised.

”Of course you did darling, you were deep inside of me when he interrupted us. Perhaps all the blood was located elsewhere but you’ve seen him since,” she teased, unconcerned as to why Robert couldn’t recall Toby. “If he isn’t here, I’m sure he’ll turn up but I’ve some free time before Royal’s evening party.”

”You have a child running around somewhere?” Sarah exclaimed, drawing Charlotte’s gaze to her and the other woman’s eyes narrowed taking in a third person she had failed to notice.

”You have company,” Charlotte shrugged, the indifference not quite believable. “Never mind, you can make it up to me tonight,” she kissed Robert’s cheek, her fingers tracing along his neck.

”Your son?” Sarah repeated more urgently when it seemed she would be leaving.

”Is in the High Rise somewhere,” Charlotte said with a dismissive wave and left. 

“Can we go before any more of your friends turn up,” Sarah was furious, not because Robert had slept with Charlotte but from the nightmare situation and whatever it was he was hiding from her.

”I don’t know what she was talking about,” Robert stared at where Charlotte had been, looking for answers in the blank space. 

”That’s another person you don’t know, yeah?” Sarah’s disbelief clear.

”I know her, I met her moments before you but I haven’t slept with her. I don’t know what the fuck is happening,” cool composure rattled, Robert ran a hand through his dark blonde, wavy hair.

”Why would she say something that isn’t true?”

”I haven’t the faintest idea,” Laing replied tersely, finding the questions from this impudent girl antagonistic. His position commanded and received respect, he was the one in charge and even in the middle of this twisted scenario and outside of the hospital he expected it. “Let me think,” that silenced Sarah, who wanted to argue with Robert, he was being rude but he was her only anchor in this maelstrom so she bit back a retort. “Good girl,” he praised her obedience, pleased she had listened though not surprised. Everyone did.

Sarah moved to the mattress, resting whilst Robert considered their next move. She patted the space beside her and he sat down, opening up again and discussing with her the layout which he seemed pleased to hear she was even more familiar with than himself. 

“If we take the lift down we can get off on the upper ground and walk to the back of the building, before taking the service elevator the remaining level,” Robert decisively told her.

”Why not walk from there, it’ll be quieter?”

”Because the various entrance points would make us targets,” Laing wanted to avoid the stairway completely and used a snide tone to end the topic.

”Fine,” Sarah was getting tired of being disregarded. The commanding nature that had caused her to come repeatedly the night before was less attractive right then.

”We can’t afford to take anything,” He told her and Sarah rolled her eyes, as if she would risk her - their - safety by dragging a suitcase. Mouth forming into a thin line, Robert placed a finger under Sarah’s chin, “do not be so disrespectful.”

Terrible situation or not, Sarah was about to explode at this man when hooting and banging, the distinctiveness of several bodies running and stomping, exploded on their floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is not the longest chapter I know but I wanted to flesh out and play with these guys after a month.  
> I’ve been avoiding coming to this, not wanting to, because my own head was caught up in such ugliness (which I did try and get out in Loki/Nebula in Respite to no avail then attempted to directly tackle the root cause with Loki/Sigyn in S.O.S which helped some but I am not yet ready to finish S.O.S - December probably) that I didn’t want this nasty setting further messing with me. So I’m viewing it as a Positive that I wanted to come write for TT today.


	3. Definitely Not Lamb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends, happy new year and allow me to say that your body, right now, in whatever shape (in the literal sense) it’s in is perfect. Instead of shedding weight, look to 2018 to change things which matter such as are you as kind to people and do they feel good around you? No, well change that. Try that over the gym and in Jan feed your soul - and your belly - with love. Except to Nazis, always be rude to those fuckers.

Both stilled, lizard brains in full control; Sarah’s telling her to run and Robert’s taking longer to engage, that side of his decision making self not frequently found outside of an operating theatre.

Sarah exhaled, unaware she had held her breath until her lungs protested and she chilled that the loud to her ears puff of air would attract attention from those outside. Pounding could be heard as numerous people, a collection of men and women from the voices, hammered on the doors. The hitting gave way to a sharper, harsher, noise and unseen by them an axe was being utilised to get through the flat which in the other building had been Sarah’s new home. 

Eyes flying wildly at the studio apartment, there wasn’t even a fire escape - if the hallway was blocked the only choice available for the poor souls of the High Rise would be too grim to consider. The only advantage the lower classes possessed was that they might live by doing the unthinkable and leaping from the balcony, the first levels however still several stories from the ground. Certainly by floor 25 there was no hope of anything but a bloody end.

The crack of wood was followed by a jubilant cheer, Laing dared a careful step forward and glanced through the peephole, the distorted image showed debris littered the ground, the remnants of the door it seemed. There were further voices but he could see four bodies, three male and a female. All filthy in some manner, the woman’s make-up, even in the concave scene, was piled in layers giving her face the resemblance of a wax figure in too high a heat.

Crashes and a male groan came next, and an older man, perhaps in his seventies it was difficult to gauge, was dragged out and unceremoniously dumped in front of Robert’s door, his head hitting against it and Sarah jumped, thankfully noiselessly. 

“Hiding from us?” a female blonde who must have gone into the flat, and had until now been obscured from Laing’s view, knelt down.

”Invitations are mandatory,” the first woman cackled and kicked at the old man, his expression not visible to Robert but the ‘oof ‘ he emitted indicated it was no playful tap.

”Stop fucking around,” a broadly accented Welsh voice said, black hair and moustache coming into focus as the well built man effortlessly dragged the victim away, the braying mob following its leader.

The heavy silence felt as oppressive as the violent noises had, once Robert was sure they were truly gone he stepped backward from his peeping-Tom location and turned to Sarah who was silently trembling.

”We didn’t help,” her tone distressed.

”There were at least five of them,” Robert told her. 

“We could..-“

”Have been attacked also,” he interrupted. “Go take a drink of water to calm down, we need to get a move on quietly.”

Dumbly following his instructions, a child shooed away, Sarah tried the tap in the kitchen sink but nothing came out. She moved it all around, seeing if any position helped but there was nothing. “There’s no water.”

”Damnit, I’d hoped with the shaky but functioning electricity there would be no issues with it. There’s no reason to think everywhere else in the building isn’t similarly affected.”

With no ability to clean up, Sarah tore a few sheets of kitchen roll and blew her nose, breathing deeply to centre herself, “I’m ready,” she uttered moments later.

They armed themselves, it would have been foolish to exit empty handed. Sarah with a kitchen knife and Robert with his old cricket bat, it too deposited along with his other belongings. His initials carved as a boy onto one of the shoulders. 

Turning the knob carefully after undoing the lock, not that one it had helped occupant from 2503, both kept their ears pricked and hearing nothing ventured forward, Laing kept himself a step ahead.

The most nerve wracking moments came waiting for the lift, the putrid smell in the metal shell, encased in mirrors though most were shattered, came as a welcome relief. Disgusting it might be, but it was empty. They exited on the upper ground, the journey too short for Sarah’s liking in as much as she wished to escape an unknown level meant potential new dangers. Sarah wasn’t religious but she found herself praying anyway, nothing concrete or formed but an echoing please in her mind, just that one word. Please let nobody be around. Please let them escape. Please let them _survive_. Furniture lay broken and created a barricade to  one side but mercifully Sarah and Robert were headed in the other, their luck finally running out when they discovered the service elevator wasn’t working. 

“We have to take the stairs,” Sarah whispered urgently and Laing gave a curt nod.

The stairwell, which he again insisted on entering first, resembled another world unlike the vile mess that surrounded everything else, it could have belonged in any building, anywhere. Clean, not just the floor and walls but there was no sign of the bodily odours that assaulted their noses everywhere else.

The moments normalcy which convinced Sarah was a sign of their impending freedom made the discovery of the back exit completely blocked off by heavy chains and metal sheeting that only heavy, professional machinery could penetrate extra painful. She wavered on her feet, wanting to sink down in terror and disappointment but refusing to let herself. Where her face must have reflected frightened misery, his radiated rage and when he pulled her along, she let him. 

It was he who led them back up, Sarah an empty shadow as she tried to process just how they were supposed to leave this building and coming up empty. She no longer believed in luck even though they avoided coming face to face with anyone on the journey upward and when he let them back into his apartment Sarah simply walked over to the mattress and laid down, dropping the knife at her feet on the soft furnishing. Eyes staring into space, mind too overwhelmed at how close they had been.

The more practical Laing ignored her, checking the door was locked and then moving several heavy boxes in front of it. It would not stop any intruders but would dull their sounds whilst inside. In the fridge he found two bottles of wine, some rancid vegetables and a leg of raw meat, the ends of it not resembling a trimmed lamb as he was used to seeing from the butcher but instead a paw was attached. Pulling the bottom drawer, where the vegetables would usually go, he discovered the white alsatian head. Definitely not lamb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut, so rude! I’m sad too but next chapter.


	4. Passion and Planning

Melancholy seeped into Sarah, drenching her in its sadness and despair. Her eyes closed, the darkness behind them giving her short comfort and she felt Robert take a seat beside her on the mattress when the pressure changed. She hated feeling this way, this lost and helpless, fighting to stay in control and not let how petrified she was overwhelm her into further panic. Sarah needed to feel grounded and presently, the only things which showed her that life prior to this was not a dream and this the true reality was herself and Robert. Rising to a sitting position, Sarah took a measured look at the doctor who had a pensive expression which served to soften his angled features.

With a deep breath, Sarah spoke, "kiss me."

Laing didn't question her or hesitate, twisting his lithe body sideways he hungrily moved in and took her mouth in his, uncertainty and fear, emotions he was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with, fuelling his desire. Long fingers tangled in Sarah's hair, tugging harshly and parting them, her groan of pain not pleasure causing his cock to swell in size as blood filled it. His free hand, the one not making use of her scalp, flexed and then clamped around her pale neck as dexterous fingers found her carotid artery either side and pressed held firmer, avoiding any pressure to the windpipe. Unprepared, her lazily lidded eyes went wide and the way control had shifted from her back to him brought a heat to her groin.

"Undress for me," he told her, tilting Sarah backward, releasing her hair but not her neck.

Her gaze locked in his, she took the buttons of the smart, deep green blouse she had worn to meet Royal and worked from the top down, arching her back to pull it off her shoulders, Laing letting her lift only as far as necessary to slip out of the garment. The trousers proved trickier, skinny jeans weren't easy to get off at the best of times and with Robert dominating the space she found herself feeling light-headed as she worked against him, kicking them off when she could no longer reach to pull the denim down.

"Carry on," Laing said, unimpressed Sarah was still clad in her underwear. When she was naked before him he ran an appreciative eye over the entirety of her body, her golden hair fanning her head and looking as if a modern-day Birth of Venus. His digits sunk between her legs, entering her pussy as he flexed his occupied hand in time with the pulse he felt inside her cunt, allowing her less air then releasing as his Aphrodite moaned with parted lips, lashes fluttering with Sarah struggling to not look away. In their previous encounter he had learned that the girl was full-throated and wanton in her pleasures but that would not be possible or safe to do in their current environment. Choking her had the added benefit of limiting how loud she could be as well as the excitement of controlling her life in his hands, the way he did every day in a different manner - his job not only limited to cadavers. Sarah grimaced when two large fingers became three and she could feel the pressure against her pubic bone, Robert stilled, watchful and waiting for the discomfort to ease from her brow then began to move in her once more. He brought her repeatedly to orgasm, Sarah's body trembling as he suppressed her full release by having silenced her and she was unaware that her chewing against her bottom lip had caused a tear in the skin and turned it rosy as the crimson mixed with saliva, not even noticing the copper tang against her tongue.

Laing found his hand tiring, the forceful thrusts at this angle was becoming disagreeable even with the delightful visual of her breasts bouncing with each one, gravity pulling them out as well as up and the way Sarah's channel gripped him he wanted to experience around his stiff shaft. He barked at her to turn around, frustration and need making him irritable and Robert aided Sarah indelicately to being on her knees, pressing her face deep into the soft furnishing to muffle her. He hadn't wanted to fuck her whilst cutting off her air-supply, the concentration required to keep her safe more distraction than he desired. Making quick work of his clothes, his eyes never leaving Sarah's cunt which was on display and ready for him, Robert didn't require any prep before driving into her, a muted but nevertheless sharp exhale coming from Sarah at his force. It took self control to not pull her head back and listen to the noises his cock was forcing her to involuntarily make, in that moment he raged at being prohibited from doing what he wished by the circumstances and he used that pent up feeling to slam at a punishing pace. Feeling her body sinking, he scooped his arm around her soft, folding middle to keep her upright, "don't you dare fall down little girl or your daddy will take his frustration out on your ass," he didn't clarify if he meant by hitting her or fucking her there but Sarah strived to keep her tired legs firm, her brain incapable of forming anything to say whether that be to plead with him that she was struggling or promising that she wouldn’t tumble, even if her mouth hadn't been pressed down leaving her unable to actually speak. His rutting didn't cease even when he came, pounding through his own release until he softened, letting go of Sarah's waist as she gratefully sprawled and raised her head to take in deep lungfuls of air. 

Dressed, their clothes starting to show the effects of the situation as Robert's suit had signs of their running around and lustful actions and his shirt and Sarah's blouse were littered with creases throughout. Sarah took a swig of the wine, which she hadn't realised Robert had brought from the kitchen whilst she had been laying down with her eyes closed before they'd had sex, the alcohol serving to make her feel thirstier rather than sated.

"So far, everyone we've encountered has resembled the homeless or the mentally infirm," Laing said, his mind formulating a plan. Sarah had not seen as many others as he had, having only come across the strange, large toothed fellow who had greeted Robert in the foyer at the start of this nightmare but he himself had by this point had viewed several different sets of people, if he included the dead older woman who had been dragged into the stairwell. "This is a large building, there is no reason to assume everyone we cross will be familiar with all those living here, if this could be called living," he added.

"We can't know this for certain."

"No, but getting out by traditional means hasn't proved successful and we need to prepare ourselves for the possibility that it is highly unlikely we won't run into anyone a next time."

"You want to blend in?" Sarah questioned, taking his homeless people remark as the obvious conclusion.

"This is not a normal situation, as much as leaving should be a priority until we are able to we're going to need to get food and find out what has happened in this place."

Sarah couldn't have cared less about the whys but she knew he was correct about food and she didn't have any better ideas herself so she agreed. They helped each other ‘dirty up’, smearing grime from the floor along their clothes. A small painpot and stiff headed brush splattered their clothing with paint and Laing dipped his thumb into the metal canister, painting the glaucous shade along Sarah’s hairline before she could protest then smearing the emulsion across the skin by his left eye and the bridge of his nose. Regarding her carefully and glancing downward at himself Robert looked satisfied. He hadn’t let on but his curiosity had been whet at what the mannequin-resembling woman had meant when she’d told his neighbour that invitations were mandatory. Invitations to what he hoped to discover if the opportunity presented itself, his brain as impatient for answers as it was freedom.


	5. The Lunatics Have Taken Over The A...partments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN: hey there’s some gross misogynistic violence (so men committing it against women) in this chapter and also mentions -but no descriptions- of SA.

Splattering yourself in grime was all well and good until you had to travel with the fecund odour invading your nostrils, Dr. Robert Laing grimly mused. Having exerted themselves, first by trying and failing to leave the forsaken High Rise part deux they had been forced to be in, and then in furious fucking, neither he nor Sarah were particularly fresh but the addition of what they had rubbed on themselves made the assault on his sense of smell infinitely worse.

It was night-time now, the sun had set outside which Sarah hoped wasn’t an omen for lights-out for them, there was a hysteria bubbling deep in her gut that was gnawing at her along with hunger.

Carrying a knife in his waistband, not an especially large blade but everything else had been serrated and it seemed to him that it would be asking for trouble to have something that could easy slice him from small movements alone rubbing on his skin, Robert rearranged it so the blade fit more comfortably. His companion in this place had selected the wine bottle, whether Sarah wanted it for Dutch courage due to the contents or as a weighted weapon, Laing didn’t know.

The staircase the elderly woman had been dragged inside was quiet on level twenty-five. Be it luck or the fact it was too new to develop squeaks, the heavy wooden and metal door wouldn’t be giving them away but they still froze and listened out for any sounds.

Sarah’s eyes flickered from back where they’d come, having manoeuvred around the trash, to the stairs at such speed that she might just as well have been at the Men’s Finals at Wimbledon on a sunny July afternoon. Except it wasn’t sunny, there were no strawberries and cream and this was very much not fun. Wishing to extend a hand to hold Robert’s, she wasn’t sure why she held herself back. But she did. There was a clinical edge to him since they’d smeared themselves in what could only scientifically be described as ‘sludge’. No, possibly before then, when they’d had sex. She had initiated it and he was happy to comply to her need for him but since he’d taken charge the switch in him, even from that first time on her floor when he had also been dominant, was perceptible. There wasn’t that edge of fun behind his eyes, that teasing, not that she’d had much of a chance to look into them having been pushed face down. Maybe it was just the position and situation.

Maybe.

Five-Floors down even the hefty door couldn’t disguise the sounds of shrieking, laughter and music.

“No, please, no,” Sarah furiously whispered at Robert with a pleading expression, he looked drawn to the sounds of life.

”It sounds as if they are having some kind of floor party, we can try to get a better sense of the stuation,” a determined Laing replied and Sarah didn’t like to think that he would leave her if she didn’t come with but pinpricks of fear ran over her scalp and down her back caused by if Robert insisted on going she would have no one.

Grabbing Sarah’s hand in his, to her unspoken relief even if they were about to enter the lion’s jaws, the doctor swung the door and they were met with a cacophony of noise. What had seemed like one source of music behind the wood was actually at least three, all fighting for dominance across different stereos. The corridors themselves were as packed and as debris filled as the level they had left, with the addition of ripped pieces of plaster which dangerously exposed wires in certain spots. All the apartment doors they could see from this end were all wide open, with people milling in and out. It would have been a normal, if rambunctious, event at a university fresher’s week but there was nothing normal about the scenes in front of them. For one, everyone looked as equally filthy, several even worse, as they did. Also there was a lot of sex; ugly, rough rutting everywhere that was not contained to a single room nor had shyer couples found quiet corners, there was no such thing here, this was in plain view, in various numerical denominations and not everyone looked consenting, to their great disgust. Or was conscious. Rome was burning with chaos and disorder while 21st C. Neros played across all the several music systems not quite loudly enough to dampen the sounds of horror.

“We have to,” Sarah begun, voice shaking after cowardly breaking eye contact with a woman within a semi-circle of men urinating on her.

”I know, but we can’t,” Laing said tersely.

“You can’t stop me helping, not like you did before!” Sarah tried to pull her hand from Robert’s who wouldn’t let her go, she was determined she wouldn’t be another spectator to violence without attempting to aid _someone_.

”Do you see,” he hissed against her ear, twisting their bodies so he pinned Sarah to the wall and with his head bent it looked as if he were kissing her neck, “just how many people are involved in this bacchanal? You would help her only to join her or one of the others faring worse.”

Sarah cried at this truth, and Laing used as an excuse to tip his head back and laugh, pretetending to slam her against the wall so should any interest drift their way they would look to fit right in.

”This is horrible,” Sarah sobbed and Robert soothed her, making the same noises one uses to settle a small child while caging his hands around her head so as to still look menacing.

”It sickens me as much as you, believe me,” Laing’s voice was hoarse with the bile he was experiencing from the various perverted tableaux.

”We’re not going to learn anything here except how evil people are, I want to leave before I scream.”

It was poor timing, or excellent depending whether a benevolent god or a trickster was behind everything in the universe, on fate’s part because having shuffled away from the wall, Sarah leaning on Laing as if he could relieve her emotionally with his physical form, she had just stopped speaking when a bearded man with deep brown curly hair and full beard grabbed her buttocks tightly with one hand then gave it a loud slap and Sarah did, in fact, yell in a combination of shock, anger and pain.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing,” Laing whipped round like a striking viper and this time the shove to the wall given to the groping stranger was full force instead of farce. His arm extended and bent so the forearm was pressing on the now choking man’s throat and one swift knee flew up to meet his sac. The party would have heard his own shouts of pain as punishment for Sarah’s had the good doctor not known precisely where to hold against to stop him from being able to take oxygen and the aggressor crumpled under himself unconscious.

Returning to an agitated Sarah’s side, he was in the process of comforting her when a loud, male voice rang out.

”Come on, you fuckers,” Laing recognised the broad Welsh from earlier, outside of his flat. “I don’t have all night,” for some reason that was funny and he roared with laughter at his own quip. No one else did.

”Are you alright to...” this time it was Sarah’s turn to cut into Robert talking.

”Yes, for this but then I want to go and if you won’t come I’ll leave without you,” she promised more bravely than she felt.

A bustling crowd had formed, surging forward into what looked the most tidy of the apartments if only by virtue of being the most empty. People were still attached to another’s body by mouth or organ in the main, and standing on what looked like coffee table, the wild faced ringleader from earlier stood triumphant with a cleaver held aloft. Below him the pair could see Robert’s neighbour, the same old, frightened gentleman from earlier, with the feral king who now towered above grinning maniacally.


	6. First Dogs, Now People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN - violence and assault toward women and all round fucked up violence!

Wilder took the scruff of the old man's neck and hoisted him leaving him to balance on the balls of his feet, the visual a mimicry of a mammal mother holding its innocent young but instead of being to keep it safe this was incapacitating and cruel. The human neck did not have the loose skin at the nape to allow it to be clasped in such a way, as evidenced by the strangled noises of pain which followed. With the hand which was holding onto the weapon, Wilder traced it across the cheek nearest to him and instantly a trail of crimson trailed down, filling in the man's wrinkles as if a dam had been opened and was nourishing the parched earth but this was no dry land requiring water but another human's face, screwed probably more in distress than from outright pain from this new injury.

The excitable, writhing crowd cheered, hungry eyes not for food, possibly not for food Laing thought back to the alsatian head in his refrigerator, but needing the nourishment that these repulsive acts delivered to them. Worshiping it seemed not the leader on stage himself but the evil deeds which were occuring, excited for what was yet to unfold. The atmosphere was oppressive, heat from too many bodies pressed together and with the music still creating a din Robert wanted to push all those near him away and bolt, even if running meant toward and out of the nearest window, just to escape. This extended beyond claustrophobia into a visceral need to put distance between this scene and himself. He understood dead bodies, he had viewed victims of trauma, cut into corpses and that did not affect him the same way it would with someone new to those sights - but the only violence he knew before this ordeal came from media. His father had never raised a hand to him in anger or punishment, nor had he ever used it to show love. Mostly the elder Dr. Laing had avoided his only son, never articulating to the boy what he was lacking because surely something must have been wrong with him or missing to have lived an entire childhood without a word of encouragement or care from a father. Robert dreamed of asking him, if he knew surely he could change it but the words would never come out. Following first the same then a better career path had initially been an attempt to force kinship, which along with every other attempt across his lifetime had failed. Eventually he too had turned indifferent, not simply with his family but to all around him and it was that detachment which had landed him his top level teaching position. His own coldness and matter of fact way of dealing with junior doctors, a copy of the behaviour he had witnessed from his father though it was subconscious, suited the role perfectly and knocked growing egos down a few pegs.

"You can’t just turn your back on our hospitality and refuse to contribute," Wilder disgustedly addressed his victim. "Did we not make that clear when we caught up to your wife."

It seemed to Laing that it made the most sense that the older woman he had found murdered and defiled was the wife in question. He did not know why she had left the safety of her own flat but his mind a created an image, playing it out, of desperate and starving people seeking sustenance as he and Sarah had but in their case knowing with certainty that they would never be able to escape the building itself being as frail and elderly as they were. Chased and hunted, so even if they had been successful in discovering food the horror of being caught came after all. Had the old man listened to his wife shriek and beg, had he looked through the peephole hoping to see what exactly they were putting her through, straining his weak eyes to make the image clearer and unable to help. Though clearly he had not even bothering to try, Laing thought to himself. Or had senior hidden, frightened they would try for him straight away, not coping with the sounds of a dying human whom he had once pledged to love and protect forever. Probably secretly grateful it wasn't him. 

"Did you hear her screams," the lacquered blonde who had been part of the hunting party called upward, a crack forming in her mask like make-up as her face twisted in grim delight and she climbed on the table, flashing everyone her lack of underwear, the short skirt hitched upwards which a quick hand took advantage of by grabbing hold as she kicked the body it belonged to away and joined both men. "Did you like it?" this was said in a mock whisper against the old man's ear with a wide grin though he didn't seem to hear her, like something inside him had shattered and all he could experience now was the basest feelings, language was above his capabilities.

"Gettouta here," the gruff Welshman pushed her off, using the old man's body and weight to aid him and she landed on several people, a roar of laughter filling the room, her own included. "Let this be a reminder to anyone who thinks they can hide away, ostracise themselves like those posh cunts upstairs," Wilder addressed them all and opened his hand and once the old man had landed with a thump back on his knees, the cleaver swung, making a dull thud as it hit the almost bald head below. It took some effort by the looks of things from the way Wilder made a sawing motion to pull the blade out, as if the weapon itself didn't want to participate in this monstrous act but it had no choice, Wilder was strong and despite wobbling when he did manage to release it, he kept his footing and down he smashed a second, third, fourth and fifth time.

It was disgusting to watch, the skin splitting from the sharp blade and blood spurting the first few rows of people and Sarah turned her head away, or tried to but Robert's firm hand held her in place with a whisper to not draw attention to herself so she settled for blurring her own vision but it was too late, everything she had witnessed here was burned into her retina and her soul. She didn't know how she could manage to hear the noise of the object hitting its target considering the howls of pain that made her ears hurt but she did. Each time it landed she heard it, and every time it came free she heard that too with crystalline clarity. It took longer than she imagined for him to die, films always made it look as if these things were quick but Robert could have told her that it was down to what and where the blows happened hit and this was no practise attack. When it was over the maniac she had witnessed committing murder with abandon looked disinterested now the mayhem was finished with as he jumped down with a thump.

“Charlotte, come deal with this!” Robert and Sarah froze, having been in the middle of trying to exit the throng when a yell came from the man, his eyes searching in the crowd for the familiar brunette head.

”Wilder, what do you want me to do with it?” Charlotte had sauntered over from behind a group of people who looked to be sharing a single needle to inject some sort of drug, having had her turn and was barely a metre away from Robert and Sarah.

”Find some way to cook it, you stupid woman,” he grabbed her hair and dragged her painfully toward his mouth kissing her.

”Don’t be so disgusting,” the woman wrinkled her nose, pulling away, but the g in disgusting died out when Wilder slapped her cross the face.

”There’s nothing left, you stupid whore. An’ it’s either we start eating the traitors or we can go find your son,” the anger in his voice making his dialect thicker.

They both watched Charlotte’s eyes fill with horror at the threat and it was those same eyes which met Laing’s in recognition and before the doctor could tell Sarah to run, Charlotte called out his name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww I missed these guys and their horrifying world. I can’t even apologise for the lack of smut I mean you read it, there was nowhere for it to go.


	7. Siblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bitch is back! Maybe. Baby steps.
> 
> CN - fatphobia in the first paragraph. I do hate to include it and I did say this story was to have no more of it but, alas, it seems very in keeping with the character to do this. Yuck. Also non-con groping and fat shaming of a pregnant woman. Everyone in this world is so terrible!

 

 

"Wilder, look Robert's here," Charlotte addressed the man closest to her having already yelled out Laing's name, desperate to move attention from herself and her son and seeing the doctor was a gift she would not be ignoring. He was with that girl who had been in his flat but Charlotte paid her no attention beyond registering that she stood beside him, assessing further whether she was more attractive than herself and deciding that no, not in the least. Possibly had the girl not been fat she would have worried about the competition but with her rotund and flabby body Charlotte knew she remained the Alpha among the women on their floors. As was Robert. Not Richard, though she knew he thought of himself as much but in truth he was both too coarse and too unpredictable to truly be at the helm. Charlotte would not miss him when he met his end, and if she could help facilitate it with Robert in tow so they could claim their place in this new society, better still. 

"Where the bloody 'ell have you been, eh?" to Robert and Sarah's utter shock Wilder embraced the other man who was still holding Sarah's hand and gave him a clap to the back. "Thought you might have defected to the cunts upstairs," the friendliness slid from him as if it had never been present and his eyes narrowed in mistrust. "We've not seen her before either, have you found yourself an upper class slut?" Sarah's heartbeat quickened at this man, no Charlotte had used his name - Wilder - not only noticing her but _again_ , someone recognised Robert. He had not told her he knew him, at least not to the level of affection the cold blooded killer had initially displayed toward him, it was that which caused Sarah to slide her hand from Robert's. The insult about her didn't matter, the Welshman could call her anything he liked so long as she could get away from him and this violent orgy unharmed.

"No, of course not," Robert forced himself to be nonchalant, the opposite of how he felt, and launched into a lie. "Sarah's my sister, she's been dealing with the sale of our old house. She's one of us."

Richard Wilder considered this, looking not to Robert but turning and facing Sarah, his head tilted downward to judge whether she really was who he said; to decide if she would be accepted.

Wilder nodded. "I take it there's no other family members going to show up?" there was a message to his voice, an unsaid mistrust that very much stated 'I am watching you both'.

Robert laughed, open mouthed and friendly while pretending not to see the warning because if he were being truthful it wouldn't apply to him as Wilder walked away, leaving them as a trio with the sounds of renewed fucking around them more conspicuous now the gruesome entertainment of the night had ended.

"That's Wilder busy for a while," Charlotte addressed Robert as the other man pushed past the queue of drug takers going the front, meanwhile she positioned herself so she could rest a hand on Robert's chest but he extracted himself, the snub pinking her cheeks more than the rouge she wore and her mouth twisted into an ugly shape.

As it turned out, Charlotte had been incorrect about how long Wilder would be gone, he re-appeared before she had the opportunity to voice anything poisonous, standing this time beside Sarah and judging by his expression whatever he had taken was fast-acting. Snaking his hands around her ample waist, Wilder pulled Sarah close to him with enough force that she wobbled but regained her balance and stilled, too fearful to do what Robert had done with Charlotte and even when his hand circled her to her bottom, lewdly cupping it with fingers creeping to where they very much were not welcome Sarah stayed frozen. It was Robert who observed a change in Sarah's demeanour, his eyes scanning the scene, who intervened.

"Now Wilder, I would never take such liberties with Helen," Laing smoothly separated the duo, placing himself between the two and wrapping his own arms around Sarah, a smirk playing upon his lips as he ducked down and placed a slow kiss on his "sister's" neck. He had briefly met the very pregnant Helen in his own block of flats when he had gone with Charlotte to the swimming baths in the basement, she had spoken of her husband the filmmaker by name which is how he had been able to craft his reply, having not met Wilder nor seen him before he and his gang had dragged Laing’s would-be neighbour while he'd watched via the peephole. 

"That's not a very sharing attitude, maybe you really are one of the toffs" it seemed there would be no comment that they were meant to be siblings. "You're welcome to Helen if you can get her away from the kids long enough, and if you can find her hole, she's the size of a house," Wilder laughed and Charlotte joined in, feeling very much in her element and enjoying the mean-spirited jibe.

"Very kind of you, and I would with anything else but I'm afraid I don't share Sarah, I never have. She's always been just mine," the gasp she gave was quite real when one of his hands tightened around her hair. "In fact, we'll catch up with you both later," the smirk was back and clasping Sarah's hand in his he took her away from the group, into one of the quitter two bedroom apartments and inside its en-suite bathroom.

It had no curtained off area, no door; zero privacy but at least owing to the size it fit only them and Laing turned Sarah around when they were inside so her back pressed against the white porcelain of the sink, pushing his groin on hers.

"What are you doing?" Sarah met his eyes, keeping her voice quiet but clear in her refusal by its tone. 

"Wilder's going to be watching us, as it is I can't trust he won't try to take you by force. Whether to challenge me or simply because he can," the sobering reply made her blood run cold. "This way he might at least believe my charade, and just maybe he will keep his hands off of you...no don't cry you and I are meant to be one of them revelling in all this," Robert was firm.

"What do you expect, you've told me I have to fuck you surrounded by all this, with the memories of all we've seen and even so I could get hurt. I never wanted to come here," Sarah couldn't help being accusatory, she hadn't. “And he knew you. Someone else you swear not to have met!”

Much in the way that Robert had bracketed Sarah’s head when they’d first arrived in a pretence of hurting her, he now wrapped his fingers around her delicate throat and feigned squeezing, eyes locked on hers. “I realise this must seem like a game but I haven’t known anyone who appears to recognise me. Charlotte is the only one I’ve spoken to before, and Wilder’s wife who she introduced me to. I promise you.”

Either he was a psychopath, the best actor she had ever encountered or Robert was telling her the truth and Sarah couldn’t find anything but honesty on his face. “I don’t want to do this.”

”I know but look only at me. You can barely be seen, I’m right here in front of you, just pretend it’s only you and I. Do it for your daddy,” the last sentence was said with a canting of his hips which sent a jolt through Sarah’s own groin. The words, the words definitely helped.

For the second time in this ordeal, for a similar if not identical reason, Sarah regretted her choice of bottoms. Useful in every situation bar sex. The last time she had been with Robert it was because removing her jeans while undressing for him had proved annoying, this time it was because there was no choice but to take them off. The shape of her body and their height difference made it impossible to do anything.

Despite his words a part of Laing wished they could be seen. Not that he himself was an exhibitionist rather he wanted them to watch him control Sarah; to own her. That made him hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit - oh hey I made a story header manip this evening.
> 
> I know, weird fake incest but I haven't tagged it as such because they aren't actually related ofc. 
> 
> I don't think the official video is out yet (so when it is watch that instead) but I saw Tom at the Dickens vs Tolstoy doing readings from both authors' works. http://dianamolloy.tumblr.com/tagged/intelligence-squared  
> And then actually stood next to His Royal Grumpiness as the disabled exit was the same he came out of but I didn't initially notice because I was trying to get an uber. Not that it mattered because he wouldn't sign anything for the few fans who were there with their little books and rushed out and around the side of the building so I had no hope of getting a selfie (one managed because he stood next to him and Tom had little choice but who wants a selfie under duress? That's not a nice memory surely as well as incredibly rude)


End file.
